Blue Hair and Sunglasses
by scribblingsandsuch
Summary: 'You're not stupid, Clarabelle.' He's surprised when she laughs. It's a high-pitched laugh, and she almost sounds like a little girl. One cherry-printed leg draws up to the stool, and she wraps her arms around it. 'No, I am stupid. You can ask anyone. At all.' Sangabelle, because of reasons.


**Let's just leave out the plothole regarding why Tanith isn't with Billy-Ray, shall we?**

* * *

'Another', he groans to the bartender, pushing his empty glass towards him. The bartender gives him a disapproving look, but pours the Scotch whiskey anyway. Billy-Ray Sanguine pulls it back towards him and takes a mouthful. Burning. Delicious.

The bar is practically deserted. It's Roarhaven, after all. There's rarely anyone in any of the bars. A couple of guys sit in the corner, nursing their drinks and sending him filthy glares. He ignores them. The only other person in the bar is the man behind it, cleaning glasses and occasionally pouring another drink for him. To tell the truth, Sanguine likes it better this way. Deserted. If the place was teeming with people, he'd just get a headache, followed by an extremely powerful urge to start slitting throats.

He takes another sip of the whiskey, wincing as it carves its way down his throat. Whiskey is a good pain, he thinks. It takes away the agony of his messed-up innards.

The door opens. Someone enters. Sanguine's back is to the door, and he doesn't look round. The person sits beside him, and he looks up briefly. Well, the look would have been brief, if the person didn't have bright blue hair, and wasn't wearing a pair of tights with cherries on them. Nevertheless, Sanguine huffs and gets back to his whiskey. The person, a rather attractive young lady, actually, stares at him. He can feel it. The sunglasses are over his empty eye sockets, so it can't be that. It gets to him. Eventually, he looks up again.

'You gonna stare at me all day, princess, or are you gonna take a picture and fuck off?'

The girl doesn't even blink. She just carries on looking at him, with her head tilted at an angle. She looks as if she's pondering for a moment, before she finally speaks.

'Can I ask you two questions?'

It's an odd request, but he's heard weirder things. His glass is empty, anyway, so he needs something to do.

'Shoot.'

'Can I have a drink?'

He gives her a strange look.

'Correct me if I'm wrong, sweetheart, but shouldn't I be offering? I ain't never heard anyone ask straight up.'

'Offer then.'

She's still tilting her head a little. He can't really help it. She's pretty adorable.

'Want a drink, darlin'?'

'Yes please. Can I have a vodka and coke?'

He calls the bartender over, asking for both her drink and another for him. As the drinks are poured, she taps him on the shoulder.

'I still have another question. You said I could ask two.'

'Ask away.'

'Why are you wearing sunglasses? It's dark in here, and it's dark outside.'

This one's easier, and isn't going to cost him anything. Who knows, maybe it could even get rid of this new company and let him get back to his thoughts. Sanguine takes the sunglasses off and throws them onto the bar. The girl, to her credit, doesn't even flinch. In fact, it's really kind of the opposite.

'Wow! How did that happen?'

She's peering right into his eye sockets, and it's a little bit creepy.

'It's a long story.'

'That's what people say when they don't want to tell me something. It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. I just wondered.'

'I don't want to talk about it.'

'Okay.'

The girl picks up her drink and takes a sip. Something clicks in Sanguine's brain; he recognises this girl from somewhere. He doesn't think her hair was blue, though. At least, her hair wasn't blue if he does know her. He doesn't know anyone with blue hair, but he's convinced he's seen her before.

It clicks.

'Grouse.'

She tilts her head again. 'What?'

'Kenspeckle Grouse. You work for him.'

Her face brightens. 'Oh, yes, I do! Well, I did. I killed him, so I don't work for him anymore.'

Sanguine wasn't expecting that. 'You killed him?'

'Yeah, I killed him.'

He holds out his hand. 'Billy-Ray.'

'Clarabelle,' she smiles, accepting the handshake. Her hands are tiny, and he wonders for a moment how on earth she managed to kill someone. She also has rainbow-coloured nails. That's a pointless piece of information, but the kind of thing that women appreciate being complemented on.

'Nice nails.'

A broad smile spreads across her face, and it's like he's just told her he's in love with her or something. A ridiculous notion.

'Thank you so much, Billy-Ray! I did them all myself! Even the yellow one.' She nods importantly, because yellow is something that obviously requires high levels of skill and wit.

His sunglasses aren't on his face anymore, and he's not a big fan of that. He reaches for them, but Clarabelle's hand catches his.

'Leave them,' she smiles.

Not happening.

'Sorry sweetcheeks,' he responds, taking the glasses with the other hand and putting them back in place. 'But these stay on.' He doesn't, however, remove his hand from hers. It's a pretty nice sensation, having your hand held, and he's not complaining.

Clarabelle, however, is.

'Take them off, Billy-Ray.'

'Make me, Clarabelle.'

She removes her hand from his, and slowly removes his sunglasses, smiling when his eye sockets are once again revealed.

'Don't hide away behind a stupid piece of plastic. Some people have no eyes, some people have blue hair, some people are zombies. There's no point in hiding what we are.'

He actually has to admit that she's kind of… right. It doesn't make him like it, but it makes him accept it.

'That's something Professor Grouse told me once. Well, he didn't say all of that, but he said I shouldn't hide who I am. I felt bad one day, because I'd done something stupid and the Professor shouted at me. I was being really quiet, because I didn't want to be stupid again. And he told me not to hide. If I'm stupid, I should just be stupid.'

She finishes her story with another mouthful of alcohol.

'You're not stupid, Clarabelle.'

He's surprised when she laughs. It's a high-pitched laugh, and she almost sounds like a little girl. One cherry-printed leg draws up to the stool, and she wraps her arms around it.

'No, I am stupid. You can ask anyone. At all.'

'Everybody's a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it's stupid.'

She looks thoughtful.

'That's beautiful. Who said that?'

'Last I heard, it was Einstein.'

'Last you heard?'

'Yeah, last I heard. Hell, I didn't know him personally, so how would I know if he said it?'

'That's a good point. You're really smart, Billy-Ray.'

'I ain't that smart, cupcake. But I don't believe that you're stupid.'

She sighs, taking another drink. He does the same, still looking at her.

'I hope you're right.'

They fall into a comfortable silence, each sipping their own drinks. He takes the opportunity to look over Clarabelle properly. Her blue hair is cut into a choppy bob, and darker roots are only just visible on the top. He remembers her as a redhead, but he could be wrong. After all, the longest glimpse he got of her was a very brief one as he and his little Revengers' Club kidnapped the Professor. It was nothing personal against the guy; he just had the brainpower they needed to fix the Desolation Engine.

Her combination of clothes is a little weird, but he's not going to judge. Without his eyes, he'd probably still be the weird-looking one. It'd be close, but he'd still get it. She's wearing a pair of green denim shorts with the cherry tights, and a tank top advertising some band he's never heard of. Bright red boots complete the picture. It's not the best colour-match he's ever seen, he has to admit, but somehow on this strange little pixie it _works_.

'Why'd you kill Grouse?'

He doesn't mean to ask it so blatantly, but he's so damn curious that he can't quite stop himself. Clarabelle doesn't seem that bothered though.

'Remnant.'

Now he gets it. Of course she wouldn't mean to kill him. From Sanguine's limited knowledge of Grouse, he seemed like a totally nice old guy. Cranky, yeah, but not a bad guy. A good guy. Morals, kindness, all that stuff.

'I'm sorry.'

It seems like the appropriate thing to say. Confusion spreads over her face, however.

'Why? What have you done?'

'Nothing, I just mean… You know what? It doesn't matter.'

She finishes her drink, eyes still on him while she drinks. He appreciates a woman that can handle her alcohol, and this one seems to be able to. Sanguine realises he's starting to think of her in a different way, but frankly, he doesn't give a damn. She's attractive, and he's a little bit drunk. He's perfectly entitled to think whatever the hell he wants.

'I'll pay you back,' she suddenly says, knocking him from his thoughts.

'What?'

'I'll pay you back. For the drink.'

He shakes his head. 'Don't worry about it, darlin'. It's on me.'

She smiles again. _Damn_, he thinks, _she has a beautiful smile_.

'Thank you so much. I would pay you back, honest. I don't have very much money, but I'd pay you back.'

'Stop even thinking about it. Want another?'

She looks at her empty glass, then at his half-full one, then back to her empty one.

'Are you having another one?'

He nudges his glass to her. 'Finish that one, if you want.'

Happily, Clarabelle takes his glass and downs the whiskey. He winces at the mere idea, but after only a couple of coughs she seems totally fine. A grin spreads over her face.

'That's really not very nice.'

He can't help but laugh, because to be honest, it's pretty funny. Clarabelle joins in, and soon they're both leaning on the bar, supporting themselves through the hysterics. She wipes her eyes, smudging her makeup slightly, and takes his hand again, still sporting a wide grin on her face. Sanguine's only chuckling slightly now, but he lets her take his hand. She bites her lip, pondering, and then hops from her stool.

'Come with me, Billy-Ray?'

_Yes please_, his mind screams. His mouth, however, only feels the need for a simple, 'Alright, cupcake.'

The bartender gives him the most ferocious look he's ever seen on a human being, and Sanguine digs into his pocket with his free hand and finds a couple of notes. He throws them at the man, muttering, 'Keep the change.' He doesn't know how much he gave him, but he couldn't care less at this present moment. Clarabelle grabs his sunglasses from the bar and slides them into her hair, and leads the way from the bar. He follows her into the chilly night.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed that. There will be more chapters, I promise. I story is also likely to become M-rated at some point. Review if you liked it!**

**~ Scribbles.**

**Edit: I've had a dig at this chapter, and taken out some of the narration at the beginning, as well as correcting a couple of spelling/grammar issues. Thanks for pointing out the teaming/teeming, Mademise Morte! :)**


End file.
